


That one time Ianto Jones was the only sane man on the team and Cas had an extended sit-down

by EllaStorm



Series: SPN meets Torchwood [1]
Category: Supernatural, Torchwood
Genre: Crack, Crossover, M/M, never apply logic to my works, set after SPN s5 ep3 "Free to be You and Me", set after Torchwood s2 ep10 "From out of the Rain", timey-wimey crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaStorm/pseuds/EllaStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is made of mind-exploding timey-wimey-ness, lead-character-clashing and lots of shipping. Cas and Dean fall through a rift in time and space and land on Mermaid Quay right next to Torchwood Three, where they meet Jack and Ianto. Wackiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That one time Ianto Jones was the only sane man on the team and Cas had an extended sit-down

Sometimes, Ianto Jones thought, sometimes the universe really had a strange sense of humour. The kind of humour that liked to sneak up on you while you weren’t looking, smacked you right over the head from behind and laughed at the look of surprise on your face.

And a surprise it was indeed, when those two guys strolled along Mermaid Quay that memorable Tuesday evening. Well, the strolling in itself wasn’t exactly remarkable – a lot of people walked down the Quay these days, why give two more blokes any further thought? – but just as one of the Torchwood security cameras captured them, it spontaneously suffered the technological equivalent of a heart attack and gave up on life. 

Which, on the other hand, could definitely be considered remarkable.

“What the…?” Tosh executed a rather frantic CPR on her keyboard, but the camera input decided to ignore her dabbling at its revival, and stuck to a blue screen of death. “Oh, come on!” “What’s wrong?” Captain Jack Harkness, who had just appeared on the gallery that led to his office, looked down at Tosh with a worried frown.

“One of the cameras is failing. For no very good reason. And… no, that’s…probably…no, that’s …but maybe…” As often, Tosh revealed merely the uninformative part of her thought process in mumbled words. And – as often – it was extremely frustrating. Not only to Ianto, apparently.

“Tosh, I have not yet developed the ability of mindreading. You’ll have to use words. Please, talk to us”, Jack said, descending the stairs. “Sorry.” She blushed very slightly at his admonition. “I just thought…it’s a weird coincidence that the camera failed in the exact moment it caught sight of those two guys walking past the Hub. Probably I’m seeing ghosts here and the reason for the fail is a purely technical one, but none of the cameras has ever had a problem up to now – I mean, we have that whole emergency backup thing and I’ve installed a waterproof reset software, so…you know, it’s pretty much impossible for that camera to just say goodbye all by itself. And I have this feeling in my guts that something is not quite OK here.“

“Good enough for me, Tosh. Your feelings have the tendency to get us on track creepily often. Try to find the problem, if you can – Ianto, you come with me. Can’t do any harm to take a sneak-peak at those guys…they shouldn’t have come too far in that short time. And it’s Tuesday evening. Not many people out on Mermaid Quay. Ah – hang on. Tosh, what are we looking for?”

Tosh blinked irritatedly, obviously cramming her brain for some eye-catching detail about the two possibly camera-wrecking guys. “One of them is wearing a light-coloured trenchcoat, I believe. And a suit”, Ianto finally barged in. Jack looked at him in astonishment. “Are you sure?” “My Dad was a tailor, remember? Thanks to him, clothing is the first thing I notice on people. And, luckily, I passed by Tosh’s desk just before the screen passed out.”

“Good job, Ianto. Could get you a bonus. Later.” “I count on it, Sir.” Jack gave a very promising smile at that. “Take this…if it gives you strange data once you’re near them, you are probably dealing with aliens”, Tosh added and handed Jack a device that had been lying next to her PC. “Thanks, Tosh. Come on, let’s go”, he said, grabbed the device and his coat and strode out through the sliding gate with Ianto in tow.

 

*******

 

Their search didn’t take very long. There was no other person on the Quay – except for a man in a beige trenchcoat and another one in jeans and a brownish jacket who evidently accompanied him. The both of them had come to a halt just about fifty meters away from the entrance to the Hub and seemed to discuss an extremely important and urgent matter, judging by the wild flailing of their hands and the fierce expressions on their faces that Ianto was able to make out increasingly better the closer he got. Eventually Jack moved his hand demonstratively to tell him they were close enough; so Ianto positioned himself next to his boss, pretending to talk to him, whilst he kept watching the two guys as inconspicuously as possible.

It didn’t take too long for Jack and him to realize that Tosh had been absolutely right in her assumption that something was wrong with those two men: Firstly, there were traces of blood on Trenchcoat’s trenchcoat. Suspicious enough. And secondly, well…

”I’m getting some seriously weird readings here”, Jack murmured, staring onto Tosh’s device, the screen of which was flooded with wildly changing numbers. “So – should we question them?”, Ianto asked. Jack nodded slowly. “That’s our job. Find something alien. Investigate it. And those two – they are definitely not clean. But let’s go slow. They haven’t done anything threatening yet. If you don’t count the camera.”

Jack turned around and walked decisively towards the guys. Ianto followed. When the two men finally noticed them, Jack was already holding his Torchwood badge under Trenchcoat’s nose. “Torchwood. My name is Captain Jack Harkness, and this is my colleague, Mr. Ianto Jones. Could we see some ID, please.” Trenchcoat’s friend frowned. “Are you like – FBI guys?” He was unmistakable American. Probably from Texas, going by that accent. “Close enough”, Jack replied. “The Welsh version.”

The man blinked. “What? What – you mean, we’re in Wales?” “Yes. You most certainly are”, Ianto said, and the guy shot him a wide-eyed glance. “Fuck, we are in Wales. Did you hear that accent, Cas? Never believed they really talk like that on the other side of the big sea.” “Well, at least we don’t sound as if we were chewing gum 24/7”, Ianto remarked dryly.

For an instant Jack looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. But after a second his face had already gone back to calm professionalism. “So – you didn’t know you’re in Wales? Are you supposed to be…somewhere else?” Neither the guy named Cas, nor his friend, said anything to that. Jack looked sideways at Ianto and then back at the two men. 

“Okay, let me ask differently. Do you feel like you’ve been shifted out of place?”

The better part of a minute passed before Cas spoke up. “Dean, I’ve already explained to you that we fell through an abyss in time and space – probably even into a parallel universe”, he said – and promptly got smacked over the head by his friend. “Dude, I told you NOT to speak of this in public.” 

Dean smiled wearily at Jack and Ianto. “My friend is a bit – confused. We had a damn long trip.”

Suddenly a big part of Ianto’s tension dissolved into relief. Of course: Rift energy was a very good explanation for the fail of Tosh’s camera – and the weird readings on the device. Cas and Dean – if that were their real names – were presumably completely normal humans who had had an unfortunate encounter with a gap in the time-space-continuum.

“Your friend Cas here might be right”, Jack retorted. “We actually have kind of a problem here in Cardiff – a so-called Rift in time and space. Looks to me like you fell through.” Dean’s features reflected pure bafflement, but Cas looked less than impressed by Jack’s statement. He seemed to be a fairly calm person anyway; which was a very pleasant trait, at least according to Ianto, who decided spontaneously that he liked Cas more than Dean.

“So we…we fell through a Rift in space and time? Through to…Cardiff? And – wait, what’s the date?” “18th of March 2008”, Ianto replied. 

“Damn! We came from September 2009. We just…fuck!” Dean looked rather freaked out. “And you know about this whole space-time thing, because…?” “It’s our job”, Jack said. “Everything that gets through the Rift, we investigate. It’s mostly aliens, but-“ “Aliens?”, Dean interrupted him. “Are you kidding me? That…aliens don’t exist. Demons exist. The Devil exists. Ghosts exist. Angels exist. Fine. But aliens…no, please, let’s stick to one genre, shall we?” He gave a little snort of laughter, and Jack laughed right back at him, humourlessly. 

“Seriously? Demons? Never seen one in my life. And believe me – I’ve seen a hell of a lot.” After that Jack and Dean just stared at each other for several seconds, speechless, as the realization finally dawned on them.

“Cas? Are there parallel universes where aliens exist…and demons don’t?”, Dean asked meekly. Cas sighed in response. “Yes, Dean. That’s what I have been trying to tell you.” “And can you bring us back?”, Dean continued. Jack, Ianto and Cas answered simultaneously, but differently, with ‘No’, ‘No’ and ‘Not yet’.

Now the bafflement was on Jack and Ianto’s side. “You can’t get back through the Rift. Or – well, theoretically you can. But it’s worse than lottery. If you just walk through it again, you might end up anywhere in the whole of time, space and parallel universes”, Ianto explained carefully and looked at Cas with cautious interest. He didn’t exactly expect the reply the man conversationally gave him.

“I am an angel of the Lord. I can move through time and space and reach right into the core of the universe. But my powers are limited as I am shut out from heaven – and still exhausted from my most recent fight. I need rest and time to regain my full strength. Then I will be able to bring Dean back where he belongs.” Ianto felt his lower jaw dangerously close to dropping. “You are…you…what…?” “An angel.” Cas repeated calmly.

About half a minute passed in which Ianto tried to doubt Cas’ statement; but somehow he was absolutely sure that the guy was telling the truth. So in the next half minute Ianto did his best to wrap his head around this whole angel-demon-parallel-universe-business. 

He didn’t succeed.

Jack finally pushed the ever-continuing circle of impossible thoughts in Ianto’s head aside by breaking the general silence. “Well, Cas, you certainly look like an angel. I like the coat by the way. Friend of mine wears a similar one”, he said with a charming smile. 

Cas blinked at him in confusion. Obviously angels were not accustomed to flirting. 

Angels. From a parallel universe. 

Bloody hell.

“Okay.” Jack nodded, serious once again. He seemed to get a lot better over this whole thing than Dean and Ianto did. “I think we’ll just have to accept that we all have our very specific lives, characters, problems and supernatural surroundings. Maybe we could share a few facts…so everyone knows what they're dealing with. Okay? Okay. My name is Jack. I am the leader of the Torchwood-Institute. Well, what’s left of it. We’re hunting aliens on a regular basis. I’m from the far future. And I can’t die. Long story.”

He looked at Dean expectantly who looked at Cas expectantly who looked at Jack with a rather dazzling intensity in his blue eyes, before he said: “You should introduce yourself, Dean. And be as honest as him.” Ianto searched for irony in Cas’ words. He didn’t find any…and he wasn’t entirely sure, if Cas even knew how to do irony, anyway.

Meanwhile Dean’s eyebrows had darted up to his hairline. “So you’re an immortal alien hunter originally from the year 3000 or something, wrapped in a WWII army coat, who works in Cardiff. A parallel universe Cardiff existing in our past”, he recapitulated. 

“Try the year 5000. But otherwise, very accurate.” Dean breathed deeply. “Okay. Good. Got it, I guess.” He cleared his throat and shot Cas a sidelong glance. Cas just nodded, and Dean looked back at Jack and Ianto.

"I’m Dean Winchester. My bro- I’m hunting ghosts and demons on a regular basis, and at the moment I’m trying really hard to stop the impending apocalypse. I’ve been to hell and back. And I love my car. She’s a ‘67 Chevy Impala." "She?" Jack grinnend. "Yeah. She. Why?" 

"Oh, just reminds me of somebody. Anyway - you’ve had an intriguing life up to now, I guess. I’d be very interested to hear a few stories. But first: Ianto, would you give us a short overview about your person, too?"

"Fine. I’m Welsh. I can handle a gun and a coffee machine. And I look good in a suit." Dean who had eyed Ianto interestedly during his three-and-a-half-sentence-introduction suddenly burst out laughing.

"Damn! An angel, an immortal alien hunter and me. That’s a really unhealthy bunch of weird." He padded Ianto on the back. "Dude, as far as I can see, you are the only sane man on this team. I like you." A little smile tugged at Ianto’s lips. 

It seemed possible that this Dean Winchester wasn’t as harsh a man as he liked to play it.

 

*******

 

"Hello, Batcave", Dean remarked with a positively surprised smile as he entered the Torchwood Hub. 

"It’s better than the Batcave. We have alien technology", Ianto replied, seriously. "This is Toshiko Sato. Our computer specialist. The two other members of our team already knocked off for the day. And as you are not exactly an emergency, there’s no necessity to call them back in. Would you like to have coffee? Or tea?"

Dean smiled at Tosh. “Hi, I’m Dean.” She smiled back reluctantly, but stayed silent, and went right back to patching up her computer. Dean turned to Ianto, apparently slightly put off by the sudden appearance of a female character. “Ah - yeah, coffee would be awesome, thanks.” “I’ll be right on it.”

"Tosh, your feelings are really starting to scare me", Ianto heard Jack say, just before he left for the kitchen. "You won’t believe what kind of strays we dragged up."

When Ianto came back with the coffee, Jack and Dean had already made themselves comfortable on the couch, chatting and exchanging anecdotes. Obviously they got on like a house on fire - which wasn’t too astounding. Ianto had yet to meet a person that didn’t get on with Jack (if he took certain aliens and evil masterminds out of the equation). Courtesy of those year-5000-pheromones, he suspected. And in this case their job certainly made a good topic for conversation between the two of them. 

Ianto noticed that Cas had sat down as well, at Dean’s side, but to say he had made himself comfortable was an overstatement. He still wore his trenchcoat and looked as out of place as humanly possible. 

As angelically possible, Ianto silently corrected himself, and put down the coffee before he could spill it.

"Thanks, dude." Dean grinned up at him for a moment, before he took a sip of the black brew, ignoring the milk and sugar Ianto had brought along. "Do you still need anything, Sir?" The question was directed at Jack who shook his head and gestured Ianto to sit down next to him. When he did, Jack continued his conversation with Cas and Dean; but at the same time his hand slipped unobtrusively beneath Ianto’s pinstriped suit jacket and started to rub lazy circles on his lower back.

“So – how long will it take until your angelic powers are strong enough for a jump back into your universe?” “About ten hours, I presume”, Cas replied. “I’ll be ready in the early morning.” “You don’t have to hurry.” Dean’s expression softened noticeably as he turned his head to look at his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time, Cas. I don’t want you to pass out from exhaustion, or anything like that.” It was the first time Ianto saw the angel smile. “I’ll be fine, Dean. But I appreciate your concerns. About my…bodily constitution.”

Jack gave Ianto a brief, sideways smirk, and the Welshman raised an eyebrow. Apparently he would have to revise his theory about angels and flirting. 

“Well. Then we got an awful lot of time on our hands, I guess”, Jack said, still smirking. “Enough for a good talk. You were just going to tell me how to battle demons.” Dean grabbed his cup from the table and sipped again. “Right. Well, first of all, they don’t like salt…”

 

*******

 

Sometimes, Dean Winchester thought, sometimes the universe really had a strange sense of humour. It was already damn weird to fall through a rift in time and space, but meeting an immortal, longcoat-wearing alien hunter from the future there, in an alternate universe Cardiff, and being invited to his operational base station took the weirdness to a whole new level. Oh, Sammy would die laughing at the sheer improbability of it all, if he were here…Dean cut that trail of thought. He wasn’t going to go there. Not at all.

“What is that?”, he asked curiously – partly to distract himself – and pointed at one of the very alien-looking devices on Jack’s desk.

Their conversation on the couch earlier had moved from demon slaying to alien slaying and then, inevitably, to the alien artefacts Torchwood had been collecting over the last one hundred years or so, which Jack gladly offered to show his guests. But Ianto and Tosh had decided to go home for some sleep and Cas had preferred to stay downstairs on the couch to take, well, not a nap, as angels didn’t exactly sleep, but more of an extended sit-down to recharge his batteries. This whole shut-out-from-heaven-thing definitely had its downsides. So Dean, strengthened by caffeine, had been the only one to follow the Captain up the stairs to his office to take a look at those mysterious artefacts.

“That is a singularity scalpel. We don’t know if that’s the real name, but Owen, our doctor, finds it catchy.” Jack himself apparently didn’t believe in the catchiness of the word singularity scalpel, judging by his tone of voice. 

“And what can it do?” Dean followed up on his question. 

“We’re not sure about its original purpose but we found out that it can pretty much pulverize everything you lock it on, without destroying any of the surroundings. So it’s perfect for difficult surgery on internal organs, for example the removal of tumours; without having to slice a stomach open. Very practical. And far too dangerous in the hands of several people on this planet. That’s why we keep it here, safely locked away.”

“Not bad. And this? It’s a…necklace.” “As long as you wear it, you can read the minds of others.” “Seriously? Like Cas?” Jack blinked at him in something that looked suspiciously like amusement. “Yes. Maybe it’s not quite as powerful as the natural psychic skills of an angel, but…yes.” For a moment, neither one of them spoke.

“Cas and you, you’re very close, it seems. Been through a lot together. Had a lot of experiences.” Jack finally stated, taking a few steps forward, until he stood right next to Dean. “But not that one, am I right?” 

“What do you…” Dean trailed off as he looked up and met Jack’s eyes: Although they had come to know Dean just a few hours ago, they seemed to pierce through every single layer of pretence, right into the reality of his thoughts with their quizzical, serious expression. It was only then that Dean realized just how damn much Jack must have seen in his immortal life. He found that, in spite of those forty years in hell, he had absolutely nothing on the ability of reading people that Jack had gained in the long time he had already spent living amongst them. Fooling that man seemed nearly impossible – and evading his questions became extremely difficult, when one was caught in this pervasive gaze of green-sprinkled blue.

Especially when the question in said gaze left no room for interpretation. Jack was clearly talking about _that_ kind of experience. About Cas and him in _that_ way. No doubts.

Dean gulped. “Ah – no. Not that one”, he finally trusted himself to say. 

Jack nodded lightly. “Though you want to.”

Dean felt like someone had punched him right in the guts, and the defensive “No, man, I’m straight!” had left his lips before he could think about it any further. Jack rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“You and your stupid, quaint categories. Do you really think they matter?” Dean opened his mouth to say something, anything, to underpin his raging heterosexuality, but there was that knowing look in Jack’s eyes again, and he shut up.

“That’s the problem with all of you 21st-century-people. So caught up in your neat little concepts that you can’t just let things happen, even though it makes you unhappy. Luckily, that’s about to get better in the future.”

Dean glanced at him in surprise. “You mean…” “I mean that if you’re in love with somebody, you’re in love with them. Never mind which gender or race they belong to. And if they love you back and you consensually start to act on your feelings, all’s good. Nothing else to think about, in my opinion.” “So, you’ve had experiences…” “Of all kinds”, Jack said with a tiny, wicked smile – and Dean knew that he meant it.

Fuck, and he had thought he’d gotten around a lot. But this guy here…

“I don’t know, if I-“ Dean hated himself for not even being able to finish his goddamn sentence, before his voice betrayed him. Jack didn’t seem to take any offence in that, though. On the contrary: His facial expression shifted from annoyance and determination to something a lot more gentle and careful.

And just an instant later, he had stepped into Dean’s personal space and kissed him on the mouth, with a firm softness that was unique in its intensity. The kiss was brief, with only a minuscule flicker of tongue against Dean’s bottom lip – and yet his pulse was racing when Jack let go of him, with a smile on his face.

“Did that feel wrong? Or bad?”, he asked. It was definitely a rhetorical question – because, man, there was no way to look past the proof of how very pleasing Dean had found their short encounter. Or at least certain parts of him.

Jack cocked his head to one side and glanced at Dean earnestly. “Think about what I said, Dean. I don’t know how angels see these things – but the way Cas keeps looking at you speaks volumes. If you let it happen. Just the way you did a few seconds ago.”

Then his grin came back. “Care for some pizza?”

Dean nodded absentmindedly, while his brain was still trying to process what had happened. And then he nearly burst out laughing, because, damn, this whole day was just taking it up to eleven on the Winchester Weirdness Scale. And he had no choice but to try and tag along.

Well, fuck.


End file.
